


Oxytocin

by GodOfGlitter



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chance Meetings, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fun, Getting Together, M/M, i guess, the regent sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 03:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfGlitter/pseuds/GodOfGlitter
Summary: Damen did not sign up for this shit.He blamed Jokaste.*Or: Damen and Laurent are enemies. He swears they are- until one night, he stumbles upon a drunk Laurent and decides to actually help him.Things escalate.





	Oxytocin

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this prompt by whitewitch95- "...I’d love a lamen au where Laurent is coming home wretchedly drunk for the first time after his uncle has again found a way to control and keep him from his heritage, and because drunk Laurent doesn’t want to return home that vulnerable, he wanders around outside where he meets his hot college boy neighbor Damen who just comes home from a party. He ends up taking Laurent home who thinks he’ll have to “pay” for it, and of course Damen is shocked af"
> 
> I'm taking more asks, if anyone wants to send me any on tumblr (godofglitter)!

Damen did _not_ sign up for this shit.

He blamed Jokaste.

It all started when she’d walked into the party hanging on to Kastor’s arm like she belonged there, and Damen had almost spat out the beer in his mouth at the all-too-familiar sight. Something about it made his blood boil- not that he still cared about Jokaste or the fact that she’d cheated on him with his freaking _brother-_ and before he knew it, he was pushing away a clearly concerned Nikandros and walking out of the other end of the frat house.

He’d decided to take a walk around the local park before heading home, wanting to cool his head a little- and then he’d stumbled upon _him._

Damen did not like Laurent de Vere. He ~~loved~~ _hated_ him. He really did. Their _very_ public quarrels were famous all over Arles University, as were their meaningless yet undeniably charged competitions in the multitude of sports they both played. They never seemed to be able to stay in the same room for too long, and Damen refused to listen to Nik’s completely shameless jibes about unresolved sexual tension.

 _Clearly,_ that was not the case. _Obviously._

 _The point was-_ Laurent was here. In the park. Sitting on a bench at three o clock in the morning, hair shining golden bright despite the near-complete darkness surrounding them- and he was reciting fucking _poetry_ and he looked beautiful and Damen just-

-he _couldn’t._

“So is this what you do when you’re not thinking up ways to torture me?” he said, taking a step towards Laurent even as his brain screamed at him to turn the other way and _run._

Laurent whipped his head back quickly, eyes going a little unfocussed- and it was then that Damen noticed how flushed his cheeks were, how bright his eyes looked- Laurent was wretchedly, unmistakably drunk.

“Fuck the universe. I do _not_ need you here right now.” Said Laurent, slurring his words only slightly- and Damen valiantly ignored the twinge of hurt that passed through his chest at that.

 _You look prince-like in the moonlight,_ he thought, but the words that came out of his mouth were “I should’ve known you were such a nerd. Let me guess- you’re reciting the Iliad so you can sober up? That is really fucking _hilarious-_ why don’t you just go home and take a nap or something?”

 _Wrongwrongwrong_ he thought, as Laurent’s lips turned into a bitter smile that made Damen’s heart yearn to wrap him up in his arms and never let go. “I couldn’t do that,” said Laurent, sounding pained in a way Damen knew he’d never reveal when sober- “It’d just give Uncle Dearest another excuse to keep the damn estate.”

It took a second for Damen to understand the implications of those words- that Laurent’s uncle, the _Dean_ of Arles University, whom everyone actually really liked- was trying to keep Laurent from the estate his parent had left for him when they’d died. And that Laurent- fearless, sharp-witted, _fierce_ Laurent- was actually scared of his uncle’s plots.

Damen decided he _hated_ Dean de Vere.

“Come on.” Said Damen, stepping closer to the bench and ignoring Laurent’s shocked intake of breath in favor of wrapping his arms around his shoulders and hoisting him up against his chest. Adjusting his position to make Laurent more comfortable, Damen started walking home, careful to take the route he’d taken countless times himself- the one that prevented him from passing by Vere Manor.

“What are you doing?” said Laurent- and this close, Damen could see the flecks of gray running through pure azure and half his wits decided to desert him completely.

“I’m taking you back to my apartment. So you can rest and sober up _properly.”_ Said Damen, grateful for the first time that Laurent was drunk- at least this way, he couldn’t notice the note of breathlessness in his voice.

Laurent blinked rapidly, and Damen almost lost his balance at the sight of his boyish, long lashes- and how prettily they fanned over the flushed expanse of his cheeks. He was _beautiful,_ heart-wrenchingly so, and Damen found himself drawn to every curve, every inch of him- powerless to resist.

“…okay.” Said Laurent, before nuzzling into Damen’s chest and letting out a contented sigh that made his heart jump through hula-hoops and perform elaborate summersaults in his chest.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your biceps?”

- _fuck,_ thought Damen, before he actually tripped- regaining his balance quickly and narrowly avoiding crashing them both into the curb.

_This is going to be a long night._

_*_

Damen knew the exact moment when Laurent woke up.

Of course, that was only because he’d been awake since he’d deposited a _very_ drunk and very frank Laurent on his bed and retreated to the couch- he _couldn’t_ deal with that much flirting. And groping.

Not like this.

Sleep had eluded him, and he’d spent the night- morning, really- listening to Laurent’s quiet, calm breathing and trying not to replay every compliment, every drunk confession a hundred times in his mind. Finally, tired of his own brain’s hyperactivity, he’d decided to abandon pretending to sleep and entered his room so he could take a shower.

_Big mistake._

Laurent was _beautiful_ when he slept- all calmness and innocence he usually kept hidden behind a steel strong mask during the day. His hair- slightly long, Damen noticed pathetically-fanned on his pillow, looking like fine threads of the purest gold in the faint sunlight. The pale blue of his irises was just visible from under porcelain skin; eyes dashing rapidly about, clearly caught up in a dream.

One look and Damen forgot basic human functions. One look, and suddenly he wanted so much more.

He was coaxing his legs to _move_ for the fifth time when Laurent woke up- slowly, at first, just a small blinking of his eyes and a slight nuzzling into the pillow that hit Damen right in the chest- and then all at once. Within a second, Laurent was sitting upright on the bed, clearly nauseated by the movement yet unwilling to acknowledge it. Damen was fascinated by the _quickness_ of his mind- it only took him that second to realize that the room wasn’t his, and that something had happened last night that he did not remember.

And then he turned to Damen.

“I was drunk.” He said, sounding fetchingly hoarse. “You brought me home and let me sleep here.” He continued, as if stating simple facts and not events that had robbed Damen’s heart from his chest- and all he could do was nod dumbly. “And now I need to pay you and leave.”

 _Wait, what?_ Thought Damen, shaking his head to remove the cobwebs from the logical part of his brain and praying to God that he’d misheard Laurent.

“I didn’t help you for money.” Said Damen, letting some of the indignation he felt seep into his voice. “I know how we are outside, but I’d never use your vulnerability against you. I’m not your uncle, Laurent.”

Shocked blue eyes rose up to meet his, and Damen was momentarily floored by the raw intensity in them- such as he’d never seen before. “What did I tell you yesterday?” said Laurent, advancing slowly towards Damen, who tried not to feel cornered and embarrassed and failed miserably.

“Look, I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? The feud between you and your uncle is yours to resolve- I won’t do anything to jeopardize the image you’ve created. I’m not that immoral, Laurent- have some faith in me.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said my name,” said Laurent, in lieu of an acquiescence- and all of Damen’s indignation melted away in the face of his awe.

“ _Laurent.”_ He breathed again, aching to close the distance between them and _touch._

“Damen.” He replied- and just like that a year of pointless fighting vanished into thin air, and all that was left was this _charge._

“How about I pay you back with breakfast instead?”

Pink lips, pink cheeks- and Damen decided that he _really_ didn’t care- and then he kissed Laurent.

It was gross, and they both knew it- and yet despite being his worst, it was also the best kiss of his life. Laurent was _warm-_ and soft and plaint and really not as uptight as he projected himself to be. Sparks made their way through every inch of his body, and Damen cursed oxygen and respiration and _anything_ that forced them to part for even a second.

“Sounds like a date.” Breathed Damen, already realizing how cheesy he sounded yet unable to truly care about it.

Besides, Laurent’s laughter made it completely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Well okay that was fun.
> 
> I totally support the headcanon that Laurent would recite greek epic poetry to sober himself up- BECAUSE WHAT IS MORE SOBERING. Please tell me you get it.
> 
> Leave a kudos, send forth a comment, the usual.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Love,  
> N


End file.
